Life and Adventure in the South Pacific

by John D. Jones

Their weapons of warfare are principally spears, though war-clubs are sometimes used. The spears are made from cocoanut wood, and are very long, and pointed at both ends. They handle them with a great deal of skill, and will throw one from forty to fifty feet with remarkable precision. Their mode of battle is very singular. Both parties approach each other, and, when within proper distance, throw their spears and then run. If one party get the advantage, and throw their spears first, and any take effect in the opposite ranks, those that have received the spears make great haste to get out of the way. These battles seldom last long, though a great deal of time is spent in manœuvring, and great preparations are made, but the contest is soon decided.

We had now cruised three months without getting a drop of oil, and the “old man” concluded to try his luck on Japan. Wanting wood and water, however, more than we had on board, for a long cruise, we steered for Strong’s Island again, and on Saturday, March 29th, we sighted it. The next day we entered the harbor, and at 11 A.M. we came to an anchor. To our great surprise, we found the bark “Mary Frazier” still in port, she having been “windbound” for three months. We also found the bark “Maria Laura,” of Hobarton, Captain Mansfield, in port. On going ashore, we found that many improvements had been made by Captain H. He had built three nice large houses. The king, too, had caught the spirit, and built himself a new house; and, in fact, a general spirit of improvement and go-aheadativeness seemed to have taken possession of all.

In the evening of the day on which we arrived, we had the opportunity of attending a singing-school, which the king had authorized to be instituted for the purpose of teaching the children the native songs of the island. As a matter of course, we could understand nothing that was sung, but we were pleased with their voices, which were very sweet, and they appeared to keep excellent time by clapping their hands.

The next day, Monday, the king, in his court dress, with all the royal family excepting Canker, came off to dinner to the ship. Canker evidently felt his guilt, as he appeared to keep out of the way of any of the ship’s company. We had no doubt, when Mr. Smith was first taken, that he had been poisoned, and circumstances pointed strongly to Canker as the guilty person. It appears that our chief mate, with Mr. S. and Canker, had been gunning, and, on returning, the mate and Mr. S. commenced bantering with Canker in sport. However, he did not take it in that manner, but appeared quite offended. On arriving at his house he seemed to have regained his good-will, and invited them to drink some carva with him. They of course accepted, and it was accordingly ordered, and brought in two large shells. The mate noticed this, and asked Canker why he did not drink with them. He replied, “Never mind; me no drink; me too much sick.” This was something so unusual, as the general practice among them is for the chief to drink first, that the mate refused unless Canker would drink, suspecting all was not right. Canker refused even to taste it, and exclaimed, in high dudgeon, “You think carva been poison? Strong’s Island no got poison.” Mr. S. laughed at the fears of the mate, and drank off his carva and in a few moments drank that which had been prepared for the mate. Two days from that time poor Smith was taken ill, as we have related, and soon died, leaving no doubt in the minds of all on board that he had been poisoned by this unscrupulous Canker.

His wife having died since we left the island, on our return we found all the chiefs living on his place. They feast every day. We called on our old friend Zegrah, who seemed very much pleased to see us, gave us a hearty welcome, and accompanied us to our “hotel,” where we regaled ourselves on fruit, fresh fish, etc. Upon mentioning the circumstances of the death of Mr. S. to him, he remarked, “Canker bloody rascal!”

The next day, Tuesday, April 1st, we called upon Canker. We found him remarkably sociable, and his first question was, “Where Mr. Smith?” We told him he was dead; whereat he raised his hands with horror, and exclaimed, “How long ship sail, he die?” We told him “three days,” when he replied that he was very sorry, as Mr.S. was a good man. Now the scamp had been made acquainted with all these particulars before. We asked him if he had not heard of his death, and he replied “no,” but we knew he lied. After some farther conversation, he asked us, “What make Mr. S. die?” We told him plainly that he was poisoned, but said nothing of our suspicions as to the guilty person. He immediately commenced denying that he had poisoned him, and said, “Strong’s Island no got poison.” As no one had hinted or charged him with doing it, we regarded his denials as very suspicious. After remaining in deep thought, apparently, for some time, he again asked, “How long he been make sick, he die?” meaning, how long after he was taken sick before he died. We thought this suspicious also, as we had but just informed him that he died three days after the ship sailed, and we determined to try him on another tack, and see what he was driving at. We replied to him, therefore, “One week.” His countenance immediately brightened, as though a happy thought had suggested itself, and he said, “S’pose me make poison carva he drink, he no live one day, he die too quick.” We asked him how he made poison carva. He replied that he put in the juice of a certain plant. We reminded him that he had said but a few moments before that “Strong’s Island no got poison.” This seemed to completely stagger him, and he appeared lost in deep study. We now left, well convinced that his highness, Mr. Canker, was a consummate villain, and that he had poisoned Mr. S.

Our fourth mate, Mr. F., concluded to try his luck gunning one pleasant day on the large island. After climbing stone walls, rambling over mountains, and wading marshes, he thought, as game was scarce, he would take a short nap. He was hardly asleep before he felt some one about his person, and sprang to his feet just in time to see a Kanaka running off with his sheath-knife in his hand. He instantly raised his gun and fired at the black rascal, but his shot did not take effect; so the native only ran the faster, and got clear with the knife.

The crew of the “Mary Frazier” were a disagreeable set of men, always boasting and quarreling among themselves and with their officers. Quite a number of the different ships’ companies were on shore one evening, rolling in the ball-alley, which had been built by Captain H., and a disturbance occurred between the mate of the “M. F.” and one of her crew. The man, who was a large, two-fisted fellow, was blustering about, threatening to knock the mate “into the middle of next week;” but, as he was taken no notice of by any one, after suffering the superabundant flow of gas to escape, sneaked off, leaving the others to enjoy their exercise.

On the evening of Thursday, April 3d, we attended a dance at the king’s house, given by some New Zealand natives. Their faces and bodies are tattooed in a very singular manner, and look truly frightful. Their gestures are fierce, songs wild, and their dancing is little more than keeping time by changing their position.

On Monday, April 7th, we attended a grand feast given by the king. All the chief’s on the island were present. Every thing was served up in the highest style of “Strong’s Island fashion,” and the white men from all three ships were heartily invited to partake, which they did of every thing except “dog.” After the feast was over the “plate” was cleared away, and room made for a grand dance, which was led off by the king and followed by the chief’s, the women singing, and keeping time by clapping their hands and beating an instrument resembling a tambourine. The old king flew around quite lively, and each one appeared to do his utmost to excel. At the close of each dance the white portion of the audience would cheer the performers in the most approved style, which seemed to please them greatly. The natives appeared much amused, whether at the dancing or cheering we could not say, but probably a little of both, as they showed a broad grin all the time. Old Cæsar tried very hard to see how high he could kick his heels, and, at the same time, keep his balance, but a misstep brought his foot down on a piece of banana-skin, and his heels flew up, and down he came with a crash that seemed as if he had gone through the floor. Upon seeing this, the king and all the dancers stopped to have a hearty laugh, the white men shouted and cheered, the natives grinned, and the house was “brought down” completely. But Cæsar was not to be frightened in that way, and he got up and went at it again with redoubled energy. After dancing some two or three hours, “all hands” took a shell of carva and separated.